


The Wanderers

by dragonmactir



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/F, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-26
Updated: 2017-08-14
Packaged: 2018-11-19 08:20:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 4,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11309454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonmactir/pseuds/dragonmactir
Summary: Sera gets sick of the "All hail the Inquisitor" attitude at Skyhold and makes a break for it.  This part was written entirely by myself, but the story is a breakaway from a roleplay with Trolldragonborn of FF.net, which hasn't actually happened yet, and oh, it's just too complicated.  Anyway, his idea was to RP Inquisition characters after the game and find out how their lives are going, but so far he's a no-show for his own game.He still hasn't shown, and my ideas have taken a left-turn, as they always do sooner or later.





	1. Act One, Chapter One: Sera

Skyhold. I can’t believe I’m still in bloody Skyhold.  Aw, it was sweet, for awhile -- after Coryphenus was dead, and the coin kept rollin’ in.  Plenty of room to play, plenty of stuffed-shirt nobs to prank, all the pie a girl could eat.  But something’s just… _wrong._ Too many people howling to the heavens and salaaming to Righteous Lord Adaar von Fancyparts, He of the Glowing Hand and the Mighty Swinging… Mage Staff. _Ha!_ Bet I had you thinking nasty things for a minute there!

 

Anyway, just too much ‘serious’ here. Not for me, nah uh, no it isn’t.  Been thinking a lot about hittin’ the road, headin’ out o’ this place.  Maybe headin’ back to Val Royeaux.  Always scores o’ rich tits need taking down a peg or three in Orlais.  Or maybe just knock around a bit, see what’s out there, find some adventure.  After all this Inquisition shite, some random adventure might be kind o’ calming, eh?

 

So I pack, an’ slip out one night when no one’s watching too close. Don’t like long goodbyes, me.  Start saying too many goodbyes and soon you start thinkin’ twice about leavin‘.  Glad I’m heading down the mountains and not up. _Climbing_ mountains is shite.  Hope I packed enough food.

 

I give Skyhold one last backward glance before I head down and gone forever. Wadn’t a bad place, really.  Made some good pals here, for a bunch o’ nobs.  Got wicked pissed on some decent shite a time or two.  Good memories.  I wipe a single tear from my eye and then I’m gone.

 

The first village is a long ways away. Shite.  Forgot about that.  Shoulda stole a horse or sumfing from the stables.  One o’ them big, dumb-lookin’ nug-things with creepy hands.  They never get tired.  Shoulda brought a lot more food, too.  I mean, sure, I’ve got all I can carry, but still, you can never have too much food.

 

I travel for days, weeks even, lookin’ for a place to stick for awhile, a place where there’s a bit of fun goin’ on. It’s not so easy to find, as it turns out.  With the mages and templars more or less at peace now, and Big Brother Inquisitor watching over all and sundry, everybody’s afraid to step outta line.  Even the _Orlesians_ are behaving themselves, somewhat.  I’ve gotta find me someone nasty and not afraid to be.  Then I’ll be able to have me some real fun.


	2. Act One, Chapter One: Elilia

Giving up Alistair for Loghain was easy, if you really want to know the truth.  There are moments that test friendship, and Alistair’s friendship didn’t pass the mark that day.  True friends don’t make you choose between killing an honorably surrendered opponent or losing your friend forever.  It was easy to take Loghain’s skill and experience in exchange for Alistair’s moodiness and inane childishness.

 

I didn’t know then that he would become my friend.  I intended to _try_ to befriend him.  I tried to befriend all my companions, but I really didn’t expect much of him, not after everything we’d done to each other in the past.  It turned out not to be as difficult as I thought it would be.  He was suspicious of my motives, true, but ready to put our differences aside, more or less.  He simply didn’t believe at first that I would be able to forgive him his own transgressions.  I suppose I understand.  But I quickly discovered that I had needed someone like him all along.  His strength, skill, and experience were great assets, true, but the best thing about him was that the both of us knew that neither of us was superhuman.  I could let down my defenses with him, be just a little bit weak.  Lean on his shoulder while he leaned on mine.  I couldn’t do that with any of the others.  Sten would question my ability to lead, Wynne would lecture me on my sacred duty, Leliana… well, I liked Leliana dearly, but when I tried to let my guard down too much with her she took it the wrong way entirely.  I liked her, but not _that_ way.  Perhaps it was residual Fereldan/Orlesian prejudice.  Or maybe she just wasn’t my type.  Oghren would accuse me of flirting with him and then pass out.  Loghain wasn’t like any of them.  I could relax with him.

 

Don’t get me wrong -- I didn’t fall for him.  It was friendship, nothing more.  He was two years older than my father and awfully ragged-looking, like he hadn’t slept in a couple of _years_.  Despite his strength, that’s not exactly very attractive to a twenty-one year old woman.  But when Riordan told us about killing the Archdemon, about how if he failed, one of us would have to kill and die, all I could think was… I didn’t want Loghain to do that.  I didn’t want him to die.  And I knew he would make every effort to kill the Archdemon, so I brought him Morrigan’s plan, and I begged him to acquiesce, for me, and he did, and I… forgot to thank him for that.  I thanked Morrigan, before I ever knew it would work, but I never thanked Loghain, and the life that was saved… turned out to be mine.  In the aftermath, I was so relieved to see all my friends alive and well to remember to thank anyone for anything.

 

And then he was gone.  The First Warden ordered him to Montsimmard, so he wouldn’t “interfere.”  A good order, coming from the man who sat on the Anderfels’ throne.  He came to say goodbye to me before he left, and I was too shocked and appalled at the idea of losing him altogether like that to say much of anything.  Talk about your awkward exchanges.  I haven’t seen him since, and it’s been almost eleven years.  The Inquisition sent me a letter some time ago, asking for my assistance, and I politely refused, and only later did I learn that he was working for them in some form or other, as a consultant or something.  If I had known before, I might not have been so quick in my refusal.

 

Having a proper enemy, rather than just random darkspawn, really helps keep my mind off him.  Being Warden Commander was never enough.  That’s why I went on this quest to find a cure for the Calling, made all the more urgent when I discovered that _all_ my wardens were falling to the Calling at once.  When that turned out to be this Corypheus creature, and the Inquisitor and his troops did for him, my search became a little less pressing once more.  And hearing that the Inquisition sent Loghain to Weisshaupt got me thinking more and more about him.

 

So I’ve decided.  I’m not giving up my quest, but I’m expanding it.  It’s not like I’ve had any luck in this area, anyway.  I’ve been alone for too long, and I know he has, too.  I’m going to find him, and see if he’ll join with me again.  Everybody needs somebody to lean on, and that means him, too.  Screw the First Warden and his “non-interference” rule that he doesn’t follow.  I’m certain that Loghain will find my quest worthy and help me see it to a successful conclusion.  I want my friend back, damn it.

 


	3. Act One, Chapter One: Loghain

I hate this place.  Bloody self-righteous bureaucrats.  Hawke died fighting the demon in the Fade so that I could come here to this piece of the Void and play kowtow to some stuffed-shirt bastard who breaks his own rules against non-interference.  He expects me to _bow_ to him, as though he were my King.  _Maric_ didn’t expect me to bow to him, I certainly am not going to bow to the Warden who sits on the throne of a nation that’s not even mine.  And he calls me disrespectful for it.  Since when do Wardens bow to anyone?

 

I know the Wardens will be finished with me forever if I leave this place against the First Warden’s orders, but I’m _long_ past what I came here to do and the bastard won’t let be get back to work.  I can’t stick around here just to be some kind of ornament to this bleeding idiot’s pride, so I slip away under cover of darkness.  It really isn’t that hard to get away from Wardens, Taint-sense or no, if you’re good.  I’ve gotten _damn_ good.

 

The Anderfels are an ugly place, Blighted and battle scarred.  I kind of like it, but it makes for a bad walk.  It’s not like I’m crossing to the Merdaine, but still, it’s a bad walk.  Especially since I’m trying to _avoid_ civilization for now.  Once I get out of this country and into Nevarra, maybe it will be safe -- or at least, safe _enough_ \-- to start hitting the towns and villages for more supplies.  Until then, I shall have to conserve my water and food carefully.  There isn’t much between here and there.


	4. Act One, Chapter Two: Sera

I’m in Jader when I see her.  She’s on the street, just walking by, big as life an’ twice as beautiful.  Never seen a woman like her before.  Tall -- tall as any man, taller than most, even! -- and blonde, like really _golden_ blonde, and _really_ stacked.  She’s wearing this dark red chainmail that looks as heavy as most plate, has a huge greatsword on her back that crackles with scary magic, and her face is painted with dark blue eye paint and deep red lip color, less like cosmetics than war paint, and she has a tattoo on her face.  She’s _gorgeous_.

 

You can’t see a woman like that an’ not introduce yourself, but I’m not so good at the “hey, how are ya, can I get into yer smallclothes” introductions.  Makes me wish the Iron Bull were here with me -- he’s _always_ got a line, but then he’s not so good at sharing.  So I take the creepy line an’ follow after her from a distance, looking for a chance to make my way in close an’ tight.

 

I get my chance.  A group of thugs surround her, after her coin and… ‘other things.’  I draw my bow an’ drop one on the double.  She takes care of the rest with her sword, then looks around for me.  I jump down from my perch and step forward, aiming for casual.

 

“Thanks for the assist,” she says, “but I had it covered.”

 

“Oh, I suppose,” I say, and give my hair a little toss, “but it never hurts to be seen to have allies, does it?”

 

She laughs -- actually laughs, a sound like angels singing.  “It never does at that,” she says, and reaches out a hand to me.  “Elilia Cousland, at your service.”

 

“Sera,” I say, as I shake with her.  “You’re Fereldan.”

 

“So are you,” she says.  “What brings _you_ here to this Orlesian den of iniquity?”

 

“Lookin’ for adventure, and a little fun on the side,” I say.  “What are _you_ up to?”

 

“Looking for a cure, and an old friend.  I have a long way yet to travel.”

 

“A cure for what?  You’re not sick, are you?” I say, suddenly worried.  This beautiful woman, my Elilia, can’t be _sick,_ can’t be _dying._

 

“The Calling.  I’m a Grey Warden, you see,” she says.

 

“The Calling?  You mean the thing that tells a Warden they’re dying?  You’re feeling that right now?” I say, more worried now than ever.

 

“No, not now.  Now that the Inquisitor put a stop to the False Calling, I’m not feeling that at all.  I guess I have a few years left.  Maybe even a couple of decades yet.”

 

“Well, then, how are you going to know if you’ve found your cure?”

 

“Good question.  But I’ve got to try.  For the sake of _all_ wardens.”

 

“And who’s this ‘old friend,’ eh?  Some long-lost lover?” I ask, trying for teasing, but feeling a little _tense,_ if you get me.

 

She laughs again.  “Oh, no, definitely not!  A fellow warden.  Loghain Mac Tir.  I don’t think the Wardens will ever be able to really appreciate what they’ve got in him, but _I_ certainly do.  I want to ask him to come along with me.  Even if our quest is unsuccessful, it should be a great deal of fun as long as we’re together.  We always get into the best scrapes.”

 

 _“I_ met that nob!” I say.  “Last I knew, he was off in the Anderfels.”

 

“That’s what I heard, also.  So that’s where I’m headed.  You know a great deal.”

 

“I was with the Inquisitor!” I say.  “Part of his inner circle!  He’s an all-right shite, but the way people treat him these days -- like he farps rose petals? -- really started to get to me, so I blew.  Say, maybe we could work together?  Sounds like you’re a person that finds adventure and knows what fun is, and both are safer in groups.  Whaddaya say?”

 

“Sounds good to me, especially if you’re as good in all fights as you were just a minute ago.  I’m the _best,_ but it _is_ always good to have help.  Are you set for long-distance travel?”

 

“Everything but a horse.  I could always use more food, too,” I say.

 

“I was just on my way to locate a decent horse,” she says.  “If you don’t have enough coin for one, I’ve got plenty.  My time as a Warden has been surprisingly lucrative for me.  I have more personal wealth now than I ever did when I was a noblewoman.”

 

“You were _that_ kind of shite?” I say before I can stop myself.  “I mean…”

 

“It’s all right, I understand.  Yes, I was that kind of shit.  Overprivileged, not thinking much about the great advantages I had in life _or_ the way it really worked for the people who lived below me.  Then, in one fell swoop, I lost it all.  I won’t say something stupid like I understand now where the rest of the world is coming from, but I learned a lot, at the least.  Mostly that I had more strength in my heart than I had previously known.  That’s a good thing for anyone to learn about themselves.”

 

“I hate learning lessons,” I say.

 

She smiles and chuckles in her throat.  “Then I pray you never have to learn another one.  Learning lessons is hard.  I don’t like it, either.”

 

She starts walkin’ down the street an’ I pick up my bow an’ follow after.  I start talking a mile a minute, to fill in what she isn’t saying.  “So, Elilia -- can I call you Elilia?  Elilia, what sort do you go for, eh?  I mean, do you like ‘em tall?  Short?  Medium?  Me, I seem to like ‘em tall, for some reason.  I don’t know what it is, but I see someone over six foot, and I go crazy, like, _demented_.  The Inquisitor’s qunari, you know -- Tal Vashoth, actually, that means he don’t follow the Qun -- but what that means is he’s real tall, an’ he got me thinkin’ _really_ funny thoughts, an’ I was like, if that’s what the _men_ look like, _what_ are the _women_ like?  ‘Cuz I have to say, I really swing more to the ladies, you know.  Which makes my ‘tall’ fetish kind of difficult, ordinarily, since women usually aren’t that tall, ordinarily.  _You’re_ kind of tall.  I don’t know how tall you are, but you’re pretty tall.  I would guess you’re maybe six foot, maybe even a little more than that, maybe.  So do you like men better or are you into women?  Or do you like ‘em both?  Or both at once?”

 

“Sera?” she says.

 

“Yes?” I say.

 

“Are you… _attracted_ to me?”

 

I stammer around for awhile, then squeak out “Yes” like a little baby bird asking for food.

 

“I think you’re kind of adorable,” she says.  “Let me get to know you a little, and we’ll see where it goes.”

 

I turn cartwheels all the way to the edge of the city.


	5. Act One, Chapter Two: Elilia

It’s hard for me to admit that I might be on a wild goose chase.  I don’t like it when I come off looking stupid.  Sera made a valid point, though.  If I don’t hear the Calling anymore, how _exactly_ am I going to figure out how to cure it?

 

I could, I suppose, go find a Warden who _is_ hearing the Calling, if I could find one that hasn’t gone off to the Deep Roads yet, and convince them to come along with us.  That might be about as hard to do as finding the cure in the first place.  Wardens hear the Calling, they head for the Deep Roads lickety-split, before they go mad or turn into ghouls, or worse.  Oh, if only Loghain were here.  _He_ could figure out this mess I’m in.  He’s a planner.  _My_ idea of tactics is to stick it with my sword until it dies or goes away.  It usually works.

 

Sera is smart.  Smart like me, but like me, she’s not much of a planner either.  I can tell that right away.  She just wants to have fun and make some bad people pay for what they do to good people along the way.  I can get behind that.  And she _is_ awfully cute, and there’s certainly nothing wrong with having a little fun in life.  You can’t be doom and darkspawn _all_ the time.  I’m not up for what she wants _right_ away, though.  I’ve outgrown that kind of adventure, more or less.  I mean, it’s _fun,_ of course it is, but… I’m looking for a little more than just slap and tickle these days.  I’m not sure that she is.  But she _is_ awfully cute, and awfully warm and friendly, and I’ve been alone a long time now.

 

Well, until I have some major epiphany on the whole “cure for the Calling” thing there’s the quest for Loghain to keep me busy, and of course there are always rumors flying about of people along the way who may need their heads knocked in by a skilled enthusiast and her trusty sidekick.  Sera probably wouldn’t like being reduced to “sidekick” status, but I don’t know yet whether she could successfully knock in a head on her own.  We’ll see.


	6. Act One, Chapter Two: Loghain

I’ve always had dreams. The eyes of the men who have died under my command follow me into sleep and taunt me with my failures every night.  I’m used to that, it doesn’t bother me much.  The demons of the Fade can’t do as much harm to me as I’ve done to myself over and over again.

 

Becoming a Warden never really affected my dreams, not even during the Blight. Possibly because I so rarely slept.  To be honest, I sleep better as a Warden than I ever did as a Teyrn or a General -- there’s so much less weight on my shoulders from day to day.  Before I shit in the mess kit with regards to their plans to destroy the Archdemons and Clarel demanded my death, the few that had the courage to speak to me would tease me about the fact that I seemed to have youthend instead of gotten older.  I don’t know about that, but a good night’s sleep on a regular basis certainly helps a man’s overall appearance and health.

 

But last night I had the strangest dream. Strange, but not unfamiliar.  I had similar, but stronger, dreams during the time of Corypheus’ False Calling.  The dream was indistinct, a fuzzy walk through a nightmare landscape, but there was no denying the sound I heard.  That song, at the furthest outside edges of my hearing.

 

It was just a dream, and if it is not repeated, it doesn’t have to mean anything. But I am an old man.  In some ways I’m surprised it hasn’t happened before now.  I’m a long walk from Orzammar, but Kal-Sharok isn’t that far away.  I don’t know anything about the place, but they must have their problems with the darkspawn.  If it is my time, perhaps they’d welcome a Warden to help them sort a few of them out.


	7. Act One, Chapter Three: Sera

She got some news that really made her happy yesterday.  I mean _really_.  We pulled in to a little Nevarran town called Aires.  We stabled our horses at the tavern and got a room and I flopped down to sleep but she stayed up to drink a little and hear the word from the barkeep.  What she heard must have pleased her, because she came bouncing upstairs and jumped into bed fully armored and ready to play.

 

That was nice, but… have you ever been body slammed by a six foot two woman wearing dragonbone chainmail?  It’s not as fun as it sounds.

 

Oh, but she let me undress her.  _That_ was fun.  Didn’t think that stuff _came_ off.  She kind of had to coach me on where the fastenings were and how they unfastened.  Kind of hard to peel that shite off, too, but oh, what fun we had once that grape was peeled!  I wonder how to suggest to her that she shave her legs and trim the bush, though?  Is that a human thing, I wonder, to leave everything furry, or just an Elilia thing?  She’s kind of butchy, after all.


	8. Act One, Chapter Three: Elilia

I got some great news in Aires.  Loghain just passed through town, going the other way.  They didn’t know his name -- he’s never exactly social -- but taller than me, dark-haired, grouchy, pale, winter-eyed Ferelden in this part of the world?  _Try_ and convince me that’s someone else.  All I have to do is track him down.  It will be a matter of days.  Lucky for me that Loghain isn’t exactly hard to track when he doesn’t care about being found.

 

I confess I was happy enough to jump into bed with Sera over the news.  She certainly knows what she’s about.  It makes me more than a bit embarrassed that I haven’t kept myself very well tended in recent days.  She didn’t say anything about my hairy legs and armpits but I know she didn’t care for it.  Who would?  _I_ don’t even like it.  It’s itchy, like a field of thistles.  I just let it get away from me.  And she’s an elf.  Not a very elfy elf, maybe, but there’s one thing true about her, she doesn’t grow much in the way of body hair.  She can’t be very comfortable with out of control leg fur.  I’ve got to get disciplined if I’m going to be in a relationship.

 

I wonder what Loghain will think of this affair of mine?  I know what most men would think -- they’d think they’d want to get a good peek at what we were doing together.  I can’t imagine that of Loghain.  I _can_ imagine him disapproving and telling me so, however.  Not that it makes any difference.  In all fairness to Loghain, I don’t think he’d disapprove on the grounds of a same-sex relationship or a bi-racial relationship, just on the grounds that I’m somehow avoiding my duties by spending too much time with Sera.  He’ll probably be angry that I came running after him, but I don’t really give a damn.  Once he’s with me, I’ll have a little organization to this plan of mine.  One thing is certain: he’s a planner, and I’m not.  Given that he’s apparently abandoned Weisshaupt, it must be by sheerest blessing of the Maker Himself that I happened to pick up his trail at all.


	9. Act One, Chapter Three: Loghain

There’s another Grey Warden in this village.  I can sense him.  What he’s doing here, I don’t know, but there’s a good chance he’s after me.  I’m going to find him first.

 

I think I caught a glimpse of him this afternoon.  Tall, blond fellow in unmarked mage’s robes.  They would send a mage after me.  He didn’t seem to notice me, which is odd if he was looking for me.  He should have been able to sense me, too.  If anything, he just looked nervous and scared, like he was the one running.  I don’t know his story, but I’ll find out.  I’m laying a trap for him, and I’ll catch him before I shake the dust of this place from my boots forever.  I don’t want to have to kill a fellow Warden, but I’ve done worse things.

 

One thing is certain, he’s not catching me.  I don’t care if he’s one of those Anders assassins they’re so proud of.  Whatever he tries, even if it’s magic, I’ll be ready for it.  I’ll be ready for him.


End file.
